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Once upon a mountaintopabove the cloudy seaswith burning jewels, wind-woven chantsand scent of sun-glad treesa child discerned her destiny. And so she descended the granite slopesto a cottage small and remotewhere humble parents with bent, gray headsclad her in linen and wooltaught her to garden and watched her grow. AContinue Reading

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Stone vats of colored dyes and white liquids.Hides of cows, sheep, goats, and camels.The eager salesman explained the process,how hides need to soak for two or three daysamong cow urine and pigeon fecesto clean and soften the skins for the dyes,natural colorants like indigoand henna and poppy. Then they areContinue Reading

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How to get familiar with infinity . . .A camel ride into the Saharato stargaze a wide open desert sky? The astronomer Carl Sagan once saidstars outnumbered grains of sand on beaches—so I rode a camel from Merzouga out into oceanic dunes of sandand sat there after sunset for theContinue Reading

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Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winning Butterflies in Flight, Thames & Hudson, 2002 and Heat, Charta, Milano, 2008. His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, Witness and the New York Quarterly. Represented by the Robin Rice Gallery, NYC,Continue Reading

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MANUS Needlework in Letterpress Ps Smithereened glass.Scalp. Gore And Qs. Footprints muck-upOn P.E. kit. Stockpiled bales. Sill. LUKE Lady Penelope Viscous feed Suitcase vacuumed.Bobs arm. Into jardinière. Passport thumbed.Sputnik chair Gust throughRustles. Unfastened sash. HERBERT Heroism inked. Pyramid of Foozled call.Vainglory in. Tins. Customer Sudoku puzzle.Speech bubbles. Directions. ALBERTINE PoodleContinue Reading

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Before he loved the starsHe loved the paint, the brush, the canvasHe loved the ear he sacrificedHe probably loved a womanWe cannot go back in timeand see what drove himBut if love is a key to everything,Why did he love the night? Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been publishedContinue Reading

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In the sandy haze, the pyramids riselike apparitions. There is nothing elsevisible in this land of sand and rockand rubble. They have spent a long time acclimating to the harsh conditions.It’s hot and dry and gets unbearable,but still they patiently impose their presence,having prolonged the inevitable. They challenge us toContinue Reading

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The process of this tattoo-makingrequires a steady hand, unshaking,so a continuous line can be laiddown by the needle’s glass blade. Precisely like a surgeon’s scalpel,but above the skin,this moving line will beginalmost feeling palpable of the practitioner’s art:she, who draws from imaginationand an experienced hearta unique creation. The brown dyeContinue Reading

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He was a son gone somewhat wrongin his talking to ghosts and speakingof dreams.Since he is alone in his monologue,we should join him on stage–wrap our spindly arms around his Princely shouldersand whisper it will be all right.Even if we see death coming,we can teach him to dodge. Lynette G.Continue Reading

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It is an old story of disfunction.While I see the beauty of a crowthat has an ugly voicebut a wonderful wing spreadundulating shadows in the sky,controlling the sun’s lightfalling to earth,its feathers holding the air,you see only a bird. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly,Continue Reading